The Snowball Incident
by Gemini Explorer
Summary: The three couples meet in London, and the Malones joke about the weather. But they soon meet a person who impresses even the Challengers and the Roxtons! And The Earl of Avebury throws some snowballs!


By the time of this story, the group has been off the Plateau for several years, and the Roxtons, the Challengers, and the Malones have all married. (George and Finn were able to marry, as Jessie Challenger had died of flu in 1921. G&F have been a couple in almost all of my fics. That couple clicks pretty well, as I write them. As for why they got together see, "Challenger's Birthday" on the Rachel Blakely Message Board.) The Malones live on the Plateau, but occasionally visit the others in England, as in the present story.

This Fic is Rated Mature, mainly due to some adult themes that are discussed by the explorers.

The Snowball Incident

by

Gemini Explorer

December, 1928, London

"I told you that you'd like English teashops," said Lady Roxton to her Brazilian friend and visitor, Mrs. Edward Malone.

"Heck, Marguerite, I told her that, myself," said Ned, elbowing his wife in the ribs, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "But since when have women paid attention to what their husbands say?"

"I do," said Mrs. George Edward Challenger. She looked fondly at her husband. "Don't I, Genius? Of course, not all husbands are as brilliant and as 'cool' as mine." She reached over and brushed a bit of lint off of the lapel of his charcoal wool suit.

Challenger blushed slightly and said, "Really, Darling! You'll embarrass me. "

Marguerite Roxton sniffed in an unladylike manner. "Oh, nonsense, George! Nothing embarrasses you. You're nothing, if not proud of your inventions and your intellect. Although I must admit, you don't brag as much as you once did."

"He doesn't need to," interjected Veronica Malone. "He has a wife now to be his publicity agent. Which she is. Personally, I think that's why he married her." She laughed as Finn reddened. There was some truth in that, for she was Challenger's biggest admirer (other than himself) and seldom missed a chance to proclaim his greatness. She was also rather proud of their two children, currently with their nanny at the Challengers' London townhome.

"Leave George alone," said Lord John Roxton, the XVIIIth Earl of Avebury. "He needs faith in himself this week, if he's to sell the plans to his new rack-and-pinion steering system."

They all knew that the Challengers were staying at their London townhome this month while Challenger tried to persuade Rolls-Royce to buy his steering improvement for motorcars. His wife was negotiating with her publisher for rights to her wildlife film made in Kenya earlier that year, and for two new adventure books. Normally, the Challengers lived at their splendid estate in Kent.

The Roxtons were in London for the end of a special session of Parliament, in which Roxton sat in the House of Lords. But his spouse saw it as most wives would: a chance for a shopping spree.

They lived for most of the year at their own estate in Avebury, where they also had two children.

The Malones were spending two weeks with each of the other couples, plus this week in London. Then, they would take ship for their home on a mysterious plateau in northern Brazil where Mrs. Malone had been born, and where she had met her mate.

"The tea is pretty good, isn't it?" asked Finn Challenger. "I used to wonder if I'd act right in places like this, but Marguerite and Johnny coached me so that I haven't embarrassed George or myself yet. Thanks, you two." She looked at the Roxtons.

"I like tea," conceded Veronica. "But why do they serve these little cucumber thingees? I'm glad that Neddy told them to go make some good, filling, chicken sandwiches. It's several hours yet until supper, and I was getting hungry. We just snacked at Harrod's for lunch."

"You ladies didn't want to stop shopping long enough for a real lunch," grumbled Ned. "I told you: I could eat a horse."

"We don't actually have that on British menus," joked Roxton. "For that, you'd have to visit France."

"I thought they ate frogs over there," replied Malone. "Isn't that why you Limeys call them 'Frogs'?"

"The French eat all sort of strange things," remarked Challenger.

"Not to mention having their vaunted lovemaking techniques."

"That isn't all bad, " countered Lady Roxton. "But English lords can do it as well or better. That's one of the tricks that John has in his little box of romantic secrets. I tell you, if done right, that sends a girl up the walls, screaming for more!"

Ned was embarrassed. "Hush, Marguerite! Here comes the waiter with the sandwiches. Can we get another pot of this tea? It really is terrific."

The waiter dispatched for more tea, Ned resumed his train of thought. "Sorry, Marguerite, I just don't like talking about sex in public, even if no one is at the tables next to us."

Finn was reminded of something that Veronica had said earlier. "I'm not going too far with that topic, but since Vee accused George of marrying me to get a publicity agent, I just want everyone to know that neither Arthur or Caroline is adopted. I may be proud of my guy and like to say so, but I have other uses!" She looked triumphantly at her virtual sister and fellow blonde. (Arthur and Caroline were the Challenger children.)

"Ahem!" Roxton cleared his throat. "Finn, I know full well that George sees potential in you in a number of areas, and I realize that you two are rather fond of one another. But this really isn't the best place to discuss certain matters. As I hope that Marguerite will remember, in case she feels any further urges to detail our love life!"

"Yeah, we'd better talk about something else", said Ned. "What about our impressions of Britain? Honey? What do you think of the sceptered isle?"

Veronica said that she was enjoying her visit immensely. "But whatever you people and the French do or don't have on your respective menus, it's cold here in winter. And your sky has dandruff again. Look!" She gestured to the window.

Finn giggled. "Touche, Vee! But the truth is, I kind of like snow."

"I don't," allowed Ned. "I'm from New York, so I've seen a lot of it over the years. But it's icky to walk in and slippery, and cars have more accidents in it. Beats ice, though. Boy, that's really dangerous! But I'm glad we're seeing snow on this trip. Veronica hasn't seen it before, and she wanted to."

"It's beautful," his wife exulted. "Oh, Ned, look at the flakes. I bet they're wonderful under magnification."

"Astounding," concurred Challenger. "And no two are alike, just like people. Even twins usuallly can be told apart."

Finn turned to the remaining member of their group, who had remained silent until now. "Susan," she addressed her secretary, "how many rolls of film do you have?"

She knew that Susan Wilson had her compact camera, a German Leica of superlative quality.

"Six, ma'am" replied the blonde beauty. "I wanted to get some good photos of the Malones in London. I can make copies for them. Their friends back in Brazil will want to see what this wonderful city looks like."

Challenger chuckled. "I can answer that, young lady. For you girls, it looks like a lot of stores. Every city looks like that to women, right, Roxton?" He turned to his oldest and firmest friend.

Roxton held up his hands defensively. "Don't get me into that, George. I like to keep Marguerite happy. My life is more pleasant when she is. If shopping does the trick, well, I have enough money, and she looks so radiant and excited when she finds some crucial new bonnet, or whatever."

"Chauvinist," chided his wife, kicking him gently under the table. "I don't wear bloody bonnets, and you know it."

"I wish that you did," he returned. "For one thing, bonnets are usually cheaper than necklaces."

Ned felt his woman's eyes on him. "What? I didn't say anything."

"Don't," she advised. "These two guys are bad enough. You fellows should know by now that shopping is an essential activity for women. Just relax and let us do it. After all, Neddy, you like seeing me in the things that I buy. You liked this dress when I got it yesterday." She leaned back to let him see her better in the elegant dark brown garment. Her coat was nice, too, Ned admitted, a wonderful lynx affair that went well with her blonde hair.

"True," he admitted. "I like seeing you in that almost as much as I llke seeing you take it off for me. Now, that is the real excitement in whatever you wear. Gosh, you're lovely!"

She knew that he meant it, wasn't just trying to get off the hook for anything that he might have been tempted to say about shopping. She glowed, and leaned over and kissed him. Ned really was the sweetest man, ever, she thought, and decided not to be angry with him for what Challenger and Roxton were teasing the women about. Besides, he had helped the Roxtons' chauffeur carry packages that morning.

Susan aimed the Leica. "Kiss him again, Mrs. Malone. That will make a nice photo. You can show it to yourselves and your children when you get home and remember how good your stay here was." She winked at Veronica, who laughed and obediently kissed Ned again, holding the pose until Susan's light meter told her the correct exposure.

The Leica flashed, and Veronica posed for another photo, this time on Ned's lap. The wide windows gave ample light for a good photo, but Susan fired the flash unit again, to get fill- in for their facial features. And she knew that Veronica would want good detail of her dress and the lynx coat hanging on her chair.

"Anyone else want pictures before I put the camera away?," asked the Wilson lass.

"I do, " said Marguerite. "But I'm not sitting on Lord Roxton's lap like that blonde hussy just did, not here in a fancy, famous tea shop with people watching us. Get one or two of us as a group, too. We don't get to see the Malones all that often these days."

Susan complied, getting four photos before the looks that she was getting from other patrons caused her to blush and put the Leica away in its leather case.

"We really should take more photos elsewhere," suggested Challenger, his arm around his wife's shoulder. Finn leaned her head over, resting it on his arm.

"What about Buckingham Palace?", she suggested. "We might catch the Changing of the Guard ceremony, and can always get the soldier on duty in the guard booth. And if we stand back far enough, you can get almost the whole palace in the picture. And we could pose by the gate, or something. That's a really fancy gate!"

"That's how we true Britons impress you little blonde Brazilian girls," razzed Marguerite. "I'm glad to see that you admire our architecture."

Finn lifted her head. "Marguerite, you're making fun of Vee and me, even though I'm now a British subject, thanks to marrying the greatest scientist of all time, here. But we have big buildings back in Brazil, too, and our beaches are a lot better than what we have here."

"Touche," conceded Lady Roxton. "You have me about the beaches. And some of your cathedrals and concert halls are rather impressive, although one can literally fry an egg on the sidewalks in Rio de Janeiro in summer. Remember that one chap who did it for money when he bet me that he could?"

They laughed at the memory. They had met the tourist exploiter on the way to their hotel after the Challengers had married in the British Embassy. It was the easy way to get Finn into Britain, without getting extra visitors' papers. And they had been living as man and wife on the Plateau for nearly three years already, anyway, not to mention having had a child together. Young Arthur had been born on the Plateau, and Challenger wanted to ensure his British citizenship by having both parents be of that nationality.

"Do you miss the monkeys and the other jungle animals, Marguerite?", asked Veronica, knowing the probable answer.

"Absolutely not," declared her brunette friend. "I can walk under trees in our parks here, and not wonder if something is going to go to the bathroom on me or throw that sort of thing at me, like those damned howler monkeys do. And we haven't any boa constrictors in our trees, to grab a child if we aren't careful!"

She shuddered. The memory of the snakes in Brazil sometimes gave her nightmares. In particular, she cringed whenever she thought of the very narrow escape that her husband had had when a bushmaster had struck at him on the way to the dreaded Tecamaya city of Xochilenque. (See, "The Crystal Skull" on the older David Orth board.) Roxton had lifted his foot to take a step just as the huge pit viper launched its strike, and its fangs had struck only his boot heel. Challenger had immediately shot the big snake, several Zanga machete men closing in to finish its twitching. Marguerite sometimes woke from a dream of that event, sweating, trembling, glad to have Roxton take her in his arms and remind her that that time was past for them. Not that they hadn't encountered dangerous snakes in Africa earlier that year. Finn had shot a puff adder under their breakfast table, and Ned Malone had shotgunned a black mamba that had taken an unhealthy interest in the Challengers as they checked one of George's specimen traps. It had probably wanted the mouse in the trap, and was quite willing to kill the people it found there.

"I shouldn't have mentioned that boa constrictor," shivered Marguerite "Now I'm not hungry anymore. Thankfully, I've almost finished my sandwich. Does anyone want the other sandwiches? We need to go soon if we're to have good light left when we get to the Palace. If that's where we're going."

Finn reached for another sandwich, and Ned took one. They refilled their cups, and agreed to go to Buckingham Palace.

Veronica gazed enviously at Finn. "How do you eat so much and keep that trim figure?" she demanded, knowing the answer. But she was still a little jealous of Finn and Marguerite in that regard.

She maintained a figure that always drew Ned's eye, but had to watch her food intake more than did the other women.

"Good metabolism," grinned Finn. "It's my active blonde mind that burns the extra calories."

"Oh, horse droppings!" snorted Marguerite. "Everyone knows what blondes' minds are like. It's probably your proximity to George that keeps your mind active enough to burn calories. That and your constant traipsing around your estate with a shotgun, harrying pheasants and rabbits."

Finn shrugged. "Maybe. But I have fun, and the Genius comes with me a lot. It gets him some exercise And the pheasants and rabbits taste great the way that Cook prepares them, and it saves on our grocery bill." (The Challengers' chef was ironically named Frank Cook.)

Malone said that the grocery bill shouldn't bother the Challengers too much. "I know what you made on that last book, Finnykins, and your film just sold for a cool half million pounds." That was serious money in the 1920's. "If you really wanted to save money, you'd do the cooking, yourself, instead of hiring a kitchen staff."

"I have to have a cook," complained Finn. "Now that I live here and am married to a deservedly famous man, I need to present myself as a proper lady. A grande dame of the Empire, you know." She grinned that urchin grin that always lit her whole being.

"You are a great lady, ma'am," said Susan. "I'm just glad that you are a Briton now. You're a credit to our nation, and help to make us the best land in the world."

Malone started to say that that was one way to get a raise, buttering up her boss. But Susan was so sincere and so proud to work for Finn that he decided not to tease her. She was a nice girl, and very helpful to the Challengers. And really easy on the male eye, too, he reflected. Hiring the former bank clerk after they had rescued her from slavers had been a good move on George and Finn's part. (See, "On Safari" on the newer David Orth board.)

Finn turned now, a surge of emotion sweeping her on hearing Susan's words. She took Susan's hands in hers and thanked her. "But you don't have to call me 'ma'am, Susan. I've told you that a thousand times."

"Yes, ma'am," grinned Susan. "I'll try to remember that, Mrs. Challenger."

On that note, Roxton summoned the waiter and asked for the bill. They needed to get along to the Palace. Thank goodness, they had sent the results of the day's shopping to his town home, via their chauffeur. They could take a taxi to the Palace.

He looked out the window, The snow was still falling, and the view was really quite nice. He was glad that Veronica could see it.

The taxi pulled up outside Buckingham Palace. "'Ere we are, Guv," said the driver to Lord Roxton. "Bit chilly today. Do you want me to wait while you take a few pictures? Might get cold before you get another taxi, eh?"

"We'll be an hour or so. Come back then," replied the Earl. "Can you lot stand the cold for that long?" He was especially concerned about the Malones, whose home country was so much warmer.

"We'll make it for an hour, right, Honey?" Ned turned to Veronica.

She shrugged. "If I have to, but someone had better plan on making a good fire at their place when we get there tonight. I'll need to thaw out."

"An hour then, " said Roxton to the cabbie.

"Got it, Guv'nor. See you then." And he was off, rejoicing over the generous tip that he had just received.

Veronica held out her hands, watching the snow land on them. Her husband kissed her and said, "This had better not make you turn into an ice princess, Baby. I hate frigid women."

"Ned, even you can do better than that," said Marguerite, trying nonetheless to suppresss a smile. "But we need to consider the real issues here. Roxton, you've gotten me into this. If the collar of my coat suffers, you'll think you married an ice princess!"

She brushed snowflakes off of the mink collar. Like many of her clothes, the coat was a shade of red, deep burgundy today. She looked good in reds, and knew it. The dark brown mink complimented the fabric perfectly. She was quite fond of the coat, and was worried somewhat about it if they stayed out for long.

"I guess this lynx lived in cold weather. The fur should stand up to this stuff, if it doesn't get too wet," surmised Veronica.

Finn and Susan, like the men, wore wool coats. Finn's was charcoal, to match her dress, selected to go with her husband's suit. Susan was in dark green, again matching her dress, the first expensive one that she had bought in her life. She was genuinely concerned, but Finn told her that it would fare well.

Susan got out her camera, and they photographed the gate and the guard booths, each with a sentry standing with fixed bayonet. The Guardsmen were from the Grenadiers today, and they wore their tall black shakos wth the long gray winter great coat.

The regimental plume on the shako lent a touch of color. Finn wished that color film had been invented, and regretted the lack of things that she would have taken for granted, in her own time.

But the availability of such things, like digital cameras and the means to put photos into computers, had suffered so much after the tragedy that had struck her people that she had only occasionally seen what such modern items could do. Damn Zoth, she muttered mentally. She was glad that he was now dead, and that she had seen it happen, even if she had not personally killed the demon. Ethnically, Finn was Anglo, but she had some of the Brazilian temperament, and she had wanted badly to slay him, herself. (See, "The Death of Zoth", on the newer David Orth board.)

She wondered if it was true that the Guardsmen's rifles weren't loaded. She had heard that, and thought it would be stupid not to give them ammunition. But the politicians here sometimes seemed to have sap for brains. One couldn't even carry a pistol on her person in public now. Not that she didn't have a Colt .25 automatic in her purse, illegally. And it was damned sure loaded! You just never knew when you might need to defend yourself, even in this peaceful country. She had pulled the .25 on a couple of thugs who had thought to rob her in a bad part of town last month, when she had gotten lost on foot. They had departed with great haste, forgetting her money and what else they had offered to do to her if no one came to her aid.

"Hey, lady! Look out!" yelled a boy. She ducked and a snowball swished past her face. A lad turned to run as her husband called after him, threatening to thrash him if Finn was injured. Challenger brandished his stout umbrella.

"I've got a better idea, Genius," she said impulsively. "Hey, kid! Take this!" And she gathered a handful of snow, packed it quickly, and cast it at the boy, who had joined two companions.

Veronica saw what was happening, turned to Ned with a wide grin, and picked up some snow, herself. "Oh, no, Veronica. Don't do this to us," pleaded Ned. But Vee had already thrown her missle at Marguerite.

"Ow!," squealed Marguerite. "Roxton, DO something! That foreign girl just threw something at me! And I've been so good to her!" But she was laughing once she got over the initial shock.

The lad threw another snowball at Finn, who returned fire, one handful of snow after another.

Challenger started laughing, but stopped when a snowball got him in the face. Finn walked over and cleaned off the mess and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. "Sorry, Genius. I didn't think they'd consider you a combatant!"

She yelped as another snowball struck her in the bottom, stinging a little through the coat and the dress.

Roxton came to her aid, landing a snowball in her assailant's side.

His wife told him to act his age, as other people became involved.

The fight scared several elderly ladies, who rushed screaming off of their park benches.

Marguerite joined in after being struck by two balls, scoring on a tall teen as the boy raised his arm to cast a ball at her husband.

Susan ran behind Challenger, careful of her camera. But she got some good photos of her companions as the fight raged.

The battlers were winding down when several tall men approached, and one, a uniformed policeman, commanded them to stop.

Susan slid her camera into a large coat pocket, hoping that the bobby wasn't about to try to confiscate it and impound her film as evidence.

Finn ran over to her husband, dragging Marguerite with her. Roxton, Malone, and Veronica staggered over, too, whooping, their faces red with laughter and exertion.

"Now, see here!, " intoned the cop. He was accompanied by a tall man in expensive clothing and a uniformed soldier. Another man in civlian clothes had the look of a detective, and he stood to shield the distinguished looking man.

Marguerite looked carefully at the gentleman who seemed to be escorted by the others, and her mouth fell open in shock. She pulled Finn, Veronica and Susan to her and whispered urgently, "Quick, curtsy! I'll explain why later."

Roxton also looked carefully at the man and color drained from his face as he recognized him. He also noted that the soldier with him was a full Field Marshal, wearing the badges of rank, red collar tabs and cap band, and a Mamuluke- hilted sword with an ivory handle.

"Ah, Lord Roxton!," said the gentleman. "Having a bit of outdoor sport, are you?" He seemed amused.

"Ah," stammered the Earl. "What a surprise, Your Royal Highness."

"Will you introduce me to your friends, Roxton?," asked the newcomer. "I know your charming wife, of course. We have met at Parliament and after the King asked for a declaration of war on the Arab nation of Amarrah, following their Sultan's shameful episode with her and some other ladies earlier this year." See, "On Safari", on the newer of the David Orth boards.)

"Yes, Your Highness," answered Roxton. "Actually, these are most of the other ladies involved in that adventure. Veronica Malone and her husband Ned were victims of the kidnapping, along with my wife and a Kenya lady not with us. And here are Prof. and Mrs. George Challenger, among our oldest and dearest friends. They joined Mr. Malone and me in the rescue party. And Mrs. Challenger's lovely secretary, Miss Susan Wilson, also a victim of the slavers. Everyone, may I present His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, heir to the Throne? And Field Marshal Sir John Grey, V.C."

The Prince shook hands with the men and inclined his head genially as the ladies curtsied again, all blushing furiously, considering the circumstances under which they were meeting the next King.

"Hmmm..." said the Prince. "I believe that I have in a sense, met two of this company before. Mr. Malone, the American gentleman, and Mrs. Challenger. I have both of your books, and have shown them to my brother, who found them most interesting. Quite a lot of pluck you and your friends showed in that dreadful Amazonian jungle, although you seem to have prospered and come away wealthy from the sale of the treasure that you plundered. Don't look so surprised. I have heard more from my sources than is in your books. But you did no worse than did the Conquistadors, and the Tecamaya attacked you first. Mrs. Challenger, I gather that you are now a British subject?"

"I am, Your Highness," stammered a nervous Finn. "My husband being one of the outstanding scientists of all time, I was honored to be able to take out citizenship here. By the way, I have new books coming out over the next year. I'd be pleased to send copies to you, if you're interested?"

"I shall be delighted, especially if I can prevail upon you to autograph them? Lady Roxton, Miss Wilson, Mrs. Malone: may I express my sincere sympathy for your plight during your time in Kenya? I assure you, our forces will soon put an end to the Sultan of Amarrah and his nasty little habit of enslaving decent European women. Sir John here was just telling me that the war in Amarrah should be over in a month or two, and that rascal will get what's coming to him!"

They talked a few minutes longer, at which point the Prince consulted his watch and announced that he had to attend a reception at the Belgian Embassy that evening.

"If I was not already committed to an affair of state, I should ask you in to dinner at the Palace. I know that Their Majesties would enjoy meeting you. As it is, I must run. Lord Roxton, a pleasure, as ever. And Lady Roxton, if I may be so bold, an even greater pleasure! Now, we had better be on our way. We were just approaching the Palace when our car had a flat tire. My chauffeur and a detective should have it changed soon, but we decided that a walk in this brisk weather would be good for us."

He turned to his entourage and said, "Now, gentlemen, I think we had better make haste if I am not to be late for that reception." And with a Royal wave at the other persons who had stood quietly as he spoke, the Prince led the way to the Palace.

As he approached the gates, two policemen on the other side opened them, and the sentries snapped to attention. Their rifles went up to the shoulder, then came down in front of them as they presented arms, the 17-inch polished blades of the fixed bayonets glittering in the afternoon sun.

"Well, THAT was a surprise," breathed Challenger.

"We almost got to have dinner with the next King," exclaimed an excited Veronica Malone. She accepted her hat from her husband, it having been knocked off of her head by a snowball moments before.

"I'm just glad that he didn't invite us in," said a relieved Finn. "I bet they have metal detectors in that Palace. Or if they don't have those yet, maybe they look in ladies' purses as they enter. That's all I'd freaking need, for some cops to find my gun." She took off her gray beret with the jaunty blue and green feathers, wiping her forehead in relief.

"If that ever happens, just brass it out," advised Marguerite. "If you don't look guilty and are with the Prince of Wales, they probably don't check your purse. I hope." She was in the same boat with Finn on that risk, having the same make of gun, but in .32 caliber, in her own purse.

"Here's our cabby," said Malone, as the taxi glided to a stop at the curb. They hastened over and boarded the vehicle, giving the address of the Roxtons' town house as their destination.

On arriving there, Roxton invited the others to dinner and to spend the night, the snow having intensified. The Challengers called their butler, explaining that they would stay with their friends that night. They spoke with the children briefly, promising to be home the next day.

While dinner was being cooked, the ladies repaired to their rooms and tried on their new purchases. There was a lot of to-ing and fro-ing from room to room as they asked each other what looked best on them.

The men went to the library, where Roxton had sherry served as he displayed his newest rifle, a .465 Holland & Holland Nitro Express double-barrelled model. "Just the thing for elephant," he said proudly.

Fine," said Malone. " But there aren't any elephants here, except at the zoo."

"See?" exclaimed Roxton. "They've heard about my new rifle. They'll keep their distance. If there's anything that you don't want, Ned, it's elephants trampling your wife's rose garden. I'd never hear the end of it from Marguerite."

Challenger chuckled. "Humor aside, John, what about going back to Africa, after the Amarrah war is done? Ever since we met Marguerite's brother and saw the trophies at his home, Finn has been begging me to do that. She wants to shoot a Cape buffalo even bigger than the one that Lord Lindemere has on the wall near his stairs." (See, "Murder in a Stately Mansion", in which Marguerite learns the secret of her birth and meets her half siblings. (On the older Orth board.)

"Suits me nicely, George. Ned, will you and Veronica join us? I can pay your way, if you want to conserve on money a bit." Unlike Roxton, who had a heriditary fortune, the Challengers and the Malones had to rely on their shares of the treasure of Xochilenque and their book sales and what Challenger made off of his inventions. Ned and Veronica were well off, but might not wish to expend the cost of a safari in those days. Nor were the Malones enthusiastic hunters to the degree that Roxton and Finn were, with Challenger eager to study animal species where his wife hunted.

"I'll ask Vee later tonight," Malone promised. "I could go for that, although Vee and I should pay for at least some of our trip. But we want to take some time to be with our kids for a year or two. And to let Veronica recover from what happened last time. She liked Kenya and the friends that we made there. But being a slave girl for several days took its toll on her. She has nightmares about it. Can we let you know after we talk it over?"

"Talk what over?," demanded Marguerite, walking into the library. She took the glass from her husband's hand and sipped. "Is this the new full cream sherry from Pedro Domecq?," she asked.

He nodded, as the other ladies filed in, wearing the outfits they had decided on to impress their husbands at dinner.

"Is that the new .465 H&H?" asked Finn, her eyes lighting up at the rifle that Challenger was examining.

And so it went, the couples commenting on the new dresses and the bottle of fine sherry. Finn sat on her man's lap, her hand fondling the muzzle of a tiger mounted in a sitting position beside the chair that he had chosen. Her other arm was draped around George's neck, in a pose that they had assumed so often, from their time in Veronica's Treehouse in the remote Amazonian forests. He smiled, ruffled her hair, and broached the subject of a new safari.

Finn looked at Susan, asking if she would have problems joining the others. "You can stay here and run the household in Kent if you can't handle going back to where you went through what you did," she offered. "I've been through a similar experience, and it also wasn't Marguerite's first time to endure that, you know. I'd understand, if you'd rather not go. But I'd love for you to come. You're a real help in filming and in doing still photos, and we need lots of that for our books and the next movie."

Susan thought. "Show me how to shoot a lion?", she asked. "I'd love to do even half of what you have, ma'am. And I don''t want you off on your own when I could be helping. I'd quite like to see our new friends from last time, also. Kenya wasn't all bad, although I'm not awfully keen on seeing the lot that I worked with at the bank, save for Holly. And I don't want the press niggling me for the lurid details of what we girls went through at the hands of those terrible men."

"No worries," promised Challenger. "If a newsman gets to be too pesky,I'll thrash him and send him packing."

Susan laughed. "Well, then. Yes, I'd be quite happy to join you. When do we leave?"

So, they fell to discussing details of their next safari, although the Malones were lukewarm, and finally opted out. "Maybe in another year or two," Veronica conceded. "For now, some memories are a little too fresh."

The butler appeared at the doorway. "My Lord, dinner is served." And they went in to eat, the curried chicken and the roast beef delighting both their senses and their palates.

Roxton lifted his glass of Chateau Latour and proposed a toast. "To the Prince of Wales, whose company I would enjoy tonight ALMOST as much as I enjoy being by ourselves, with friends who are the same to me as family."

They clinked glasses, Susan feeling very self concious in this company. But her heart swelled with joy as they dined, and she found herself looking forward to hunting in Kenya again.

That night, the Roxtons lay in bed, discussing the events of the day. "I can't believe that you let yourself behave that way, John," chided Lady Roxton. "You're 40 years old, and you were clowning around like a schoolboy. What will the common people who saw that say? "

He laughed, putting an arm around her, kissing her cheek before turning out the light. "They'll say, 'that Roxton chap has got a good right arm. Did you see that last throw? Just the man we need in Parliament' !"

She sniffed. "Spoken like a man! Well, at least, one fellow in the House of Lords got something useful done today. Those lads in the park will recall this afternoon for the rest of their lives. Did you see their faces when the Prince recognized you?"

"Social climber," he teased, reaching for her. From Marguerite's response, he concluded that playing in the snow had certainly not made an ice princess of her. In fact, she seemed eager to show him that she was a warm-blooded woman.

A snowball fight today, and this tonight, he reflected. I think this is known as having one's cake and eating it, too. Life is good. And going on safari again just makes it better.

But his wife soon convinced him that being at home in London was wonderful, too. By the time that he slept an hour later, he wondered if he might be the happiest man on the planet.

The End

Epilogue:

The Challengers and their friends would meet Edward again. In 1936, as King Edward VIII, he would receive them in an investiture at Buckingham Palace. At that time, he created the couple as First Baron and Baroness Challenger. This was largely at the behest of politician and author Winston Churchill, later himself made a Knight of the Garter, and widely considered one of the foremost statesmen of all time.

For more information on this and when Wing Commander (later Air Chief Marshal of the Royal Air Force) Sir Arthur Challenger, KCMG, DSO, DFC and Bar, Order of the Star of India, etc,. became Second Baron Challenger and what became of him and his sister Caroline, read the Fic, "The Death of Zoth". The Epilogue there tells the rest of the Challenger epic. It's on the Newer David Orth board. Also on that board is Arthur and Caroline Challenger's WW II adventure, in which they met their spouses, "Thunderbolt Over Burma" The Fiction section there also has photo links to see Thunderbolt, Spitfire, and other aircraft mentioned in that Fic.


End file.
